The Night Talks
by LaTerreAuxEtoiles
Summary: It was ironic, in a poetically twisted way, that the first time her sleep had been clouded by horrible visions and piercing noises was the night they freed themselves by unmasking Mona. One-shot after 3x07


_Author's Note: This is something that's been bouncing around in my head since the episode on Tuesday. It's a one-shot that takes place after 3x07 "Crazy."(Although I'm think of continuing if I have the time.) I would love to hear what you think about it._

_Disclaimer: I don't own Pretty Little Liars_

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**The Night Talks**

Emily had never had a nightmare before they discovered Maya's body. Not when her dad left for Iraq, not when Alison disappeared, not the day they found out Ali was dead. There hadn't even been one the entire time A was stalking them. It was ironic, in a poetically twisted way, that the first time her sleep had been clouded by horrible visions and piercing noises was the night they freed themselves by unmasking Mona.

It had taken everything in her to make herself keep going after that night. The last months of the school year were a blur. She wasn't exactly sure how she had managed to pass all of her classes and move on to senior year, but she had a suspicious feeling that it was only by the will of her overly sympathetic teachers.

She would have preferred that she remained in the eleventh grade. At least then she could have been stuck there forever like Maya.

It had taken everything in her again to go to Haiti, especially after hearing the idea from her mother. Pam Fields was not on her list of favorite people after giving her daughter the news. Emily had pushed her away more than anyone else, mostly because she couldn't help but remember how the older woman had disliked Maya from the beginning. If she could have only gotten over her issues sooner, Emily would have had that much more time with Maya. It may have been an irrational way to think, but she wasn't too concerned with rationality or preserving people's feelings anymore.

Being alone was something Emily had started to treasure. She's gotten a job so that she would have an excuse not to be around the people she knew; she much preferred the strangers she waited on. But for the first time since their trip to Spencer's lake house, Emily felt alone, probably because of all the memories their talk at Aria's had stirred up. Plus, she was more freaked out about Hanna and Aria's trip to see Mona and what they had found out about Maya than she was letting on. So when Spencer had turned to her with her wide, slightly frantic eyes and hopeful expression, Emily had said yes.

Of course, she should have known that her hidden hope for a night of uninterrupted sleep would backfire on her. Instead, the second she closed her eyes, she was catapulted back into the same visions she always had.

Alison. Always Alison looking like she had on that last night with her yellow shirt and perfect curls. That shirt had stood out to Emily from the moment the other girl had pulled it off the rack. It was bold and delicate and Ali had made a teasing comment about meeting her boyfriend while wearing it. At the time, Emily had thought she was kidding, trying to mess with her head because she knew how Emily felt. But maybe she had been thinking of Ian that entire time. Maybe she'd been talking about someone else. Either way, no one could have guessed it would be the shirt she would die in.

Next to Alison would be Mona. Sometimes she would be that dorky girl with pigtails and a scooter that Emily remembered from what seemed like forever ago. Other times, she would be the Mona Emily recalled more clearly. Flawless. Regal. Unforgiving. Glued to Hanna's side. Occasionally, she would even appear as she had the night of the Masquerade, crazed and vindictive and murderous. What a lethal combination.

Usually, they would be holding hands. That fact never failed to surprise Emily. Alison wouldn't have touched Mona for a million dollars back then. But then Maya would show up, right next to her and close enough to touch, and Emily would forget about the other two.

Emily would recognize Maya as she had been during the good times. When they were actually together for what was much too short of a time. When they were just happy and not worried about anything. Maya would seem peaceful, serene, and for a second, Emily could delude herself into thinking everything was exactly the way it was meant to be.

Until the screaming started. The terror she heard in it shattered her sense of calm and shocked her back into the reality that nothing about her life was ever going to be perfect. Not anymore. No matter how long she had ever thought about it, Emily had never been able to figure out who exactly was the one screaming. When it came down to it, the only times she had heard Alison and Mona raise their voices had been out of anger and Maya had simply been too soft spoken.

Right after the screaming would come the blood. So much of it that Emily couldn't ever believe that it had fit inside of just one person. It would coat her, running down her arms and legs, over her lips and into her eyes. It didn't matter how hard she tried, she was just never able to get the blood off of her hands.

At some point, Alison would change, become covered in dirt and no longer look like the perfect friend Emily remembered. There would be blood on her too, always coming from her head and matting down her hair in the back. That's when Emily would start to panic because no matter how many times she dreamt it, every time she began to believe that she could actually do something to help her. She would search for Maya, because Mona was dead to her and she had trained herself to look right past her, but it was always too late.

By the time she had looked away from Alison to Maya, the blond would be obviously dead. Her eyes would be flat and all of the energy and passion she had carried in life would simply be gone. And by the time she managed to get her attention back to Maya, she would be dead as well. Both of their eyes would be open and they were still standing, but Emily knew without a doubt that they were gone for good. It made her wonder that if she had just kept her attention on one of them, maybe she could have done something to save them.

All the while, the screaming would go on and on, leaving her ears ringing and her heart racing and right before she woke up, Alison would look straight at her and hold a finger up to her lips, always with that same infuriating smirk she had carried in life, always telling her to be quiet.

The first time she had dreamt it, her eyes had flown open and Emily had been positive that she was the one making all the noise. As she waited for her mother to come bursting through the door to make sure she was alright, she'd eventually figured out that as graphic as it was, it had all been in her head. Even the blood, which she could still feel sticking on her skin.

The only difference with all those other times and this particular time was that when her eyes snapped open, another set of eyes were looking straight back at her.

"Are you okay?"

Disoriented, Emily didn't answer right away. She was too busy trying to figure out exactly where she was and what was going on.

"Em?"

The sound of her name caught her attention and brought her back to reality. She was in Spencer's house, in Spencer's bed, with Spencer laying right next to her. They had been at Aria's house, but when they had left, Spencer had asked her to stay over, knowing neither of them exactly wanted to be alone.

"Emily? What's wrong?"

Her mind began to zero in on the fact that although Spencer's voice was hushed, there was a sense of urgency and worry behind it. So even though she wasn't okay and thing were very, very wrong for her, she said the complete opposite.

"Nothing." Knowing it sounded like a lie, she cleared her throat. "Nothing. Just a bad dream." That sounded better.

"You're lying." Maybe it hadn't sounded as good as she thought. And leave it to Spencer to be so blunt. Of course Emily was lying, though more by omission than anything else. Still, she had to try to deny her fragile state of mind, if only to preserve what she thought of as her dignity.

"I'm not. I just… I've been having bad dreams lately."

She'd been dumb to think that Spencer would drop it. Aria might have, Hanna probably would have, but Spencer was a different story. Now the other girl was shifting in bed and looking at her in the way that Spencer did that made Emily feel like she was math equation waiting to be figured out.

"Bad dreams? As in nightmares?"

Emily nodded silently. Was there any other kind of bad dreams?

"How often do you have them?"

Spencer Hastings, psychologist, to the rescue.

The thought of lying outright to Spencer crossed her mind again. It would save her from having to explain everything, from having to relive it, from having to feel Spencer's pity radiate from her body. But, in the end, there was no way she could do that.

"Every night for the most part. Not for awhile though. I thought they were over."

The look on Spencer's face said it all. What Emily was saying upset her. "Why didn't you say anything?"

Emily shrugged, or at least attempted to from her awkward position on her side. There should have been some sort of answer, something that she could say to help Spencer to understand, but when Emily tried to figure out what that answer was, her mind drew a blank.

"What are they about?" Another attempt to force information out of her. But Emily didn't want to answer that question any more than the first, even though this one she could.

Unanswered questions irritated Spencer, especially when it came to the four of them. They reminded her of the years they had spent keeping secrets from each other and only confiding in Alison.

"Maya? Ali?"

Emily just shrugged again, refusing to confirm or deny Spencer's suspicions despite her having guessed correctly. But Spencer knew she was right. "I know you miss her." Momentarily, Emily was sure Spencer was about to touch her, grab her hand or something along those lines, but at the last minute she stopped and seemed to think it wasn't not such a good idea after all. Emily couldn't help but wish she had continued her action.

"It would be easier if I didn't know it was my fault."

Another thing Emily liked about talking to Spencer is that fact that she won't sugar coat anything. She doesn't tell Emily that it wasn't her fault because they both knew there was a large chance it partly was. Anyone who they cared for was at risk. That was why Spencer had broken up with Toby.

"You can't think like that. We don't know that for sure. I think that website could mean that Maya was involved in all this without you knowing about it."

But Emily didn't want to think about that. She didn't want for one second to entertain the thought that Maya could have known what was happening to her. Because that would be almost as bad as losing her. So she chose to ignore Spencer's statement, something that she wished the other girl would get used to.

On a whim, Emily scooted closer to Spencer, hoping the she wouldn't move away. Of course she didn't. Instead, she stayed still and let Emily come as near as she wanted. They ended up with both of their heads on one pillow, their legs pressed together from foot to knee. It was the first time Emily had been that close to someone since Maya.

"Has it ever bothered you to sleep in the same bed as me?"

The question caught Spencer off guard and her answer came loudly and quickly. "No!" Lowering her voice, she continued, "Never. Why would it?"

"I don't know." In contrast to Spencer's volume, Emily was barely even whispering. Why had she brought up something that alluded to her preference for girls? Especially with Spencer, who she knew wouldn't change her opinion of someone for something she considered so trivial.

"Emily, I know you better than almost anyone else. You were Emily before and you're Emily now. Nothing else matters. You know none of us feel any differently about you than we did before. You're still you." The words felt familiar to her, reminding her of something Hanna had said when she first came out.

Unexpectedly, Emily felt the familiar tightening in her throat and pressure behind her eyes. Before she knew it, she could feel the hot trails running across her face as she cried, "I don't feel like me anymore."

And then Spencer was pulling her closer and somehow managed to wrap her arms around Emily and squeeze her until she felt like wasn't going anywhere ever again. It reminded Emily of the night Maya had died, the way Spencer had grabbed her and refused to let go, as if the longer and harder she held on, the more chance she had of taking some of Emily's pain into herself.

Emily had never been one to cry often, and when she did, it was never loud and full of sobbing like some people. For her, it was something she preferred to do alone so no one could see her bloodshot eyes and red nose and a weakness that only tears could solve. But if she had to choose anyone to be there, it would be Spencer.

Hanna would always ask her again and again if she was okay or if she needed anything, even though she obviously was not okay. Aria's eyes would always get huge, even bigger than they normally were, and be so full of pity and sadness that Emily could barely take being around her. And then there was Spencer, who became so serious that it could be taken as uncaring. But Emily knew the truth. Spencer was the farthest thing from uncaring. Every time Emily cried, it never failed that Spencer would too.

Emily waited and waited for it to stop, but it seemed like someone had turned on a hose to her tear ducts and now she just couldn't figure out how to get it to stop. She didn't even need to look at Spencer to know that her eyes would be watery and her forehead would be sort of crumpled like she was working on a problem she couldn't get the right answer to. Not that Emily wanted to look. It would only make her more upset.

So they laid there and Emily let Spencer hug her even though she'd been trying to put up a brave front since she had gotten back. And in the middle of this mess of emotions, Emily did something even more stupid to complicate things further.

One of them moved, their faces getting closer than either of them had planned and then before Emily could stop to think about what she was doing, her lips were already pressed against Spencer's.

There wasn't anything spectacular about the kiss. It was spontaneous and wet and Emily knew as soon as she did it that it hadn't been a smart idea. Neither of their mouths even opened in the slightest. Spencer froze against her but didn't pull back. Instead, she let Emily do that, and just stared at her with wide eyes and a confused expression on her face.

"That was wrong." The look on Spencer's face immediately told Emily that she regretted it. But did she mean it was wrong to kiss Emily or girls in general?

"Wrong? You think that's wrong?" Emily had also noticed a bit of a defensive streak popping up more often than normal since Maya died, as well as a tendency to pick fights.

"Not wr-wrong in general. I just meant…Toby." The fact that Spencer stuttered over her words made a wave of guilt crash down on Emily.

Obviously she would have meant Toby. Emily wanted to kick herself. Not only had she just kissed one of her best friends, but she had also kissed one of her other good friend's girlfriend. Two faux pas for the price of one.

"I'm sorry. I don't know what's wrong with me." Another lie. Really, it was easy to see why she had done it. She missed Maya, everything about her. Walking with her. Holding hands with her. Kissing her. Laying in bed with her. And something about the way she and Spencer had been wrapped around one another had reminded her of Maya, somehow making her think for one second that it was Maya she was laying next to, not Spencer.

The thought brought on a whole new wave of emotions. The brief pause in her crying ceased and once again there were tears trailing down her face. And Spencer did the same thing she had before, pulling her closer until they were intertwined again. Emily had to give her credit for not shying away after her random act of desperation.

Once her crying had died down to just a light trickle, Emily felt Spencer's hold on her loosen, although she didn't let go completely. The new space between them made Emily's heart hurt for some reason. Maybe after going so long without being close to someone had bothered her more than she had allowed herself to think about.

"Feel better?" Spencer's low, rough tone made Emily sniff. She nodded, not wanting to meet Spencer's eyes with her own. For a moment, neither of them said anything and Emily was consumed with the thought that she was there and they were breathing in the same air but Maya would never breathe again.

"I'm sorry," she finally murmured, already knowing Spencer would tell her there was nothing to apologize for.

Sure enough, she replied, "You have nothing to be sorry for. Mistakes happen." Mistakes. The word bounced around Emily's head. She was always making mistakes. Kissing Alison. Going along with the Jenna Thing. Fighting with Maya. Kissing Spencer. The list went on and on.

"Seriously, Em. Please don't worry about it."

She remembered the first time Alison had called her Em, way back when they had all just became friends. It had made her feel good and like she was actually a part of something for the first time. No one else had ever given her a nickname, besides the ones her parents had called her as a little girl. None of the others realized what it meant to her.

"Emily?" She'd retreated into her own mind again and she could see the worry coming back into Spencer's eyes.

"Sorry." She had to stop apologizing for everything. "I was just thinking."

Spencer nodded once, like she's figured as much. "Are you going to tell Toby?" Emily could hear the concern in her own voice at the thought. Like he hadn't already seen what a mess she was first hand. Spencer would probably tell him the entire story, how she had cried and been screwed up enough to kiss her best friend.

Surprisingly, Spencer hesitated. "He's already mad at me and I…I don't want to give him anything else to worry about." Like he would have to worry about Emily actually making a move on Spencer. That would never happen. Would it?

"You're fighting?"

Spencer paused. "He knows something is going on. He knows about the anklet. He knows I've been keeping things from him." In the silence, Emily heard Spencer swallow nervously. "I let him lie for me."

The last sentence caught Emily's interest. "About what?"

It was clear that whatever it was, Spencer didn't want her to know. "I did something stupid, Emily." Whatever it was, Emily wasn't too sure if she even wanted Spencer to tell her. It was only another secret, one to be added to the never ending list they had compiled between the four of them. What difference would it make if Emily knew what Spencer had done? It would only weigh on her mind, make her worry, worry, worry about Spencer being okay, just like everyone had to worry about people finding out that Emily had been at the cemetery the night Alison's grave had been dug up. That they all had been there. What was one more secret added to a sea of them?

Instead of digging for answers as Spencer was always to keen to do, Emily carefully evaded having to know anything more than she absolutely needed to. "It'll be okay."

"Will it?" Their roles were reversed in a warped sort of irony. Now Spencer was the one who was getting upset and Emily had silently taken it upon herself to comfort the other girl. It was the very least she could do after everything Spencer had done for her.

"Of course it will. One day, this will all be behind us. We won't have to worry about hiding things or people trying to hurt us. We'll all move away from Rosewood, start over and be happy." Optimism wasn't a good look for Emily. Even to her own ears, she sounded empty and false, more like she was trying to convince herself than Spencer. But for someone so factual, Spencer would listen to those types of dream scenarios without shooting them down.

"Do you really think that?" Of course not. Neither did she. None of them could afford to think like that. They had to keep their heads in the here and now if there was ever going to be a chance of them escaping it. So Emily didn't answer, instead choosing to move. Her arm was asleep.

Almost as if she could sense Emily's discomfort, Spencer moved with her, their bodies settling into a more comfortable position laying on their backs side by side. Changing the subject, Emily glanced at Spencer. "You have a French test tomorrow morning."

"I do." Not that Spencer was worried. She'd been taking French since the fourth grade.

The silence felt heavy to Emily, suffocating her when all she wanted to do was scream about everything that was weighing her down. Her life was a minefield of disasters from the day she met Alison. Everywhere she went, she would worry about setting something off. But as much as she hated it, she could at least be grateful that it had given her Spencer and Hanna and Aria. Because who could even guess what her life would have been like without any of them.

Once again, Spencer acted like she knew what Emily was thinking. Her hand somehow traveled down the bed and settled over Emily's, grasping it tightly like she wanted Emily to feel how she would never let her go. Never let her get carried away in the current of their lives.

Emily didn't have another nightmare that night.


End file.
